The Red Bug

The Bug
Well, I tried to ‘go native’ or ‘when in Rome’ or any of those other little phrases that indicate that you are trying to act like the culture you are living in, but tonight I draw the line.

For the last few nights, we have had the balcony doors open after dark and the fan on instead of the AC. Part of this was to save energy, and part was that I had gotten a sinus infection from too much AC and wanted to try a new approach. It didn’t work.

Shortly after nightfall, a HUGE wasp came cruising in and made a beeline (bwah ha ha-get it?? BEE line?? Hee hee hee) for the light above Anthony’s bed. I mean, seriously, it was like a B-52 bomber. (Oh just let me get this last one in, would you?) This thing had the girth of my ring finger and was about half that long. With a noticeable, sizeable stinger, I might add. We could clearly distinguish the stinger from across the room—without my glasses on. And it was red. Pollination is most assuredly a secondary function of Red Bugs. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that their primary function is to STING. Hence, NO ONE was going to bed with that thing in the room.

I sent Anthony in search of help, but the only person at the desk was the Useless Child (don’t ask) and so I went in search myself. I found the guy who is our usual front desk help, the guy we adore and bring food to occasionally. I dragged him to our room and pointed at the Red Bug. He kind of laughed, went and got a broom, and chased the thing around the room for a bit (Anthony and I hid near the bathroom door, just in case we needed to put something between it and us.) He finally got it killed and swept it out the door. I’m sure he has a story to tell about the cowering Americans who were afraid of The Red Bug, but that’s fine.

Tomorrow, before dusk, the balcony doors get closed and the AC goes on. Hell, I may not even open the doors after 4:00, just to be safe.